


Snowflakes

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [23]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Haytham's birthday seems to be a thing for me, I like snow, Snow, Ziio steals Haytham's hat, and comments too!, his hat is so steal-able, leave me kudos pleases!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 04:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6315580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziio meets Haytham on the night of his twenty-ninth birthday, which she steals his hat, they have a snowball fight, and tumble in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflakes

Haytham needed to get away from the stuffy heat of the tavern. Night had fallen and the wind was crisp and chill, thick white blankets of snow covered the ground, and grey clouds were drifting in from the north to cover the bright stars. The wind gusted, causing him to shiver and he pulled his cloak around him, blowing on his hands. It started to snow, a few flakes at first then slowly more, until it was hard to see between the falling snowflakes.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, Haytham didn't jump out of his skin, but his heart quickened as the shadow materialized into a woman. Haytham was baffled that she wasn't cold.

"Aren't you cold, Ziio?" he asked. The Mohawk woman's lips quirked up into a mischievous smirk and she glanced up at the falling snow, blinking against it.

"You didn't answer my question," she stated. "What are you doing?"

"I had to get away," he said, closing the gap between them, the snow crunching beneath his boots. "The tavern was too stuffy."

Ziio chuckled at a private joke that he wasn't a part of. "Walk with me," she said and headed towards the forest. Haytham watched her go marveling at how she seemingly vanished into the trees; turning to face the tavern when he heard the door open. Shay walked out, a quizzical look on his face.

"Sir?" Shay asked, watching Haytham. Haytham didn't say anything, turning his attention away from Shay and the tavern where the other Templars were, and headed towards the tree line where he knew Ziio was waiting. Haytham heard Shay retreat back into the tavern, the door squeaking close.

He didn't see her at first, but her smaller hand found his larger one and she tugged him along. "What was going on in there?" she asked, as they walked through the shin deep snow.

"Oh, nothing important, just a trivial matter," Haytham said dismissively, the reveling in the tavern — in his honor no less — had already been forgotten as soon as Ziio took his hand. "I thought you weren't going to find me until we were ready to attack Braddock?"

"What trivial matter were you discussing?" Ziio asked, ignoring the comment about Braddock. Haytham chewed his lip wondering how much he should tell this woman. He liked her, was fascinated by her, but too much blood and betrayal had happened in his life and he felt reluctant to open up to anyone. Ziio looked back at him, an inquiry in her amber eyes. He licked his lips.

"My birthday," he said simply.

"How many winters?" she asked, pausing briefly to listen to the silence. Haytham followed her lead, allowing the quiet of the forest to seep into his bones. He could hear himself breathing and in the distance the _whomp_ of snow falling off an over-laden branch. The wind gusted through the trees and he shivered. Winter never felt this cold in England, at least he never remembered it being this cold. Then again the native Bostonians often said that you haven't seen true winter until experiencing a winter in Massachusetts.

"Twenty-nine," Haytham said. Ziio turned and looked at him, head rising and lowering slowly in a highly appraising manner.

"I thought you were younger," she said and began walking again. Haytham sputtered, stumbling as she tugged at his hand.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked. Ziio flashed him a mysterious little smile as they crested the hill. Haytham saw a little encampment. "You've been following me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Ziio said with a snort, "I was hunting, and I happened to see that one fellow that is always with you? The angry looking one."

"Charles?" Haytham asked, arching his brow. Ziio gave a nod. Haytham made a little amused sound in the back of his throat. "He's not angry, Ziio, just… passionate."

She arched a brow, not believing him. She let go of his hand, and walked towards her fire. The embers were low, yet she had gathered wood previously. She mulled over her gathered logs before selecting a few and dumping them onto the fire. She sat down on a fallen tree and patted the space beside her. Haytham pursed his lips together. "I really should go," he said, feeling awkward.

"Why?" Ziio asked. Haytham opened his mouth, trying to think of an excuse to return to the tavern, his men, the merrymaking they held in his honor, yet he couldn't think of any. Truth was, if he allowed himself to admit it, he'd rather spend his time with Ziio.

"This… isn't proper," Haytham muttered, but sat down beside her anyway. Ziio looked at him in askance. "You are an attractive young woman… out here without… a chaperon…"

"Why," Ziio drawled, leaning close to him, "are you embarrassed to be out here with me? You didn't have a problem before."

"Before we were working together… this is altogether different," Haytham said, refusing to meet her gaze. Ziio chuckled, and Haytham knew his cheeks were pink and it wasn't from the biting cold.

"Rest assure, Haytham," Ziio said, the tone of her voice caused him to look at her, "I won't let you breach any boundaries unless I want you to." There was a glint in her eyes, and Haytham knew she didn't speak falsely.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you," Haytham said, his voice soft. Ziio smirked, before looking up at the sky. The snow had lessened, a snowflake landed on her nose, and a girlish smile light up her face and Haytham felt his heart flutter.

"What does your name mean?" he asked, in an effort to break the silence that had fallen between them. Ziio wiped her nose and looked at him.

"Why?" she asked.

"Curiosity," Haytham said, rolling his shoulders and pulling his cloak around him tighter. He cupped his hands and blew on them, trying to get some feeling back into his fingers. The fire was struggling to revive itself, the logs Ziio had given it earlier had yet to catch.

"Kaneihtí:io means _beautiful snow_ ," Ziio said, glancing at him. "And your name?"

" _Young eagle_ , it's Arabic," Haytham said, a quick smiling gracing his lips. "I had to tell the other children what it meant. They always thought it rather odd."

"It suits you," Ziio said, and Haytham whipped his head in her direction to stare at her for several long moments. It had stopped snowing, and the moon, half-full, had finally reappeared, casting the world in a brilliant silver glow. "You are proud, like the eagles."

Haytham swallowed, thickly. "Thank you," he breathed, not knowing what else to say. There was a spark, then a pop and the fire caught the logs. Haytham looked at it, staring into the flames. He presented his hands to the source of heat and sighed, feeling the cold retreat from his fingers. "So, why did you bring me out there?"

Ziio shrugged, watching the flames, a mischievous smirk on her face as she scooted closer to him. "I have my reasons," she whispered.

"And what are they?"

Ziio grinned, tilting her head from side to side. "Catch me and I'll tell you," Ziio quipped. Haytham frowned, looking at the landscape around them. Ziio had a distinct advantage in the frozen landscape.

"Catch you?" Haytham asked, as she stood up. "Why would—mmmfffph!" cold snow covered his face suddenly and Ziio's laughter echoed in his ears. He felt a breeze on the top of his head. He wiped the snow from his face and saw Ziio, a few feet away with his hat on her head and a snowball in her hand. Haytham wouldn't admit it, but she did look rather stunning in his hat. "Ziio, give me my hat back, please," Haytham said, standing up.

She smiled. "No, you have to catch me first." She tossed the snowball, but he was ready and ducked. He scooped up some snow, molding it into a ball, and tossed it in Ziio's direction. She dodged, running off through the snow-covered woods. Haytham had no choice but to give chase.

The forest rang with Ziio's laughter and Haytham's shouts for her to slow down, come back, you mad woman stop! Among other things. Haytham soon found himself, huffing and puffing, his breath coming out in little white clouds. He stared glanced up at the sky, guessing it was sometime passed midnight. He needed to take a break, feeling winded, his hands on his knees as he took gulps of freezing winter air. "Are you giving up? Don't want your hat back?" Ziio called. Haytham looked up to see her, only a few feet away. She had a cocky grin on her face, hands on her hips and his hat on her head. He chuckled.

"I want it back, you devil-possessed woman!" Haytham shouted, straightening, he had his respite and gave a burst of speed as he charged up the hill. His sudden energy caught Ziio off guard and he succeeded in grabbing her around the middle. They fell into the snow, tumbling down the hill with muffled gasps of surprise. They stopped tumbling, sliding the last few feet to the base.

Ziio laughed, her hands laced together behind his neck. Haytham stared at her for several moments, before chuckling himself. It was rather fun and somehow his hat still remained on her head. "I'll be taking my hat back now," he said, grabbing the point. Ziio giggled, pulling him down and pecking his lips.

"Oh really?" she asked, a coy glint in her eyes. Haytham stared at her moonstruck. "I'd like to see you try," she said, nipping his chin. Haytham jerked away, surprised by the sudden bold contact.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he growled, which only caused the glint in her eyes to twinkle brighter, "Ziio."

"Am I?" she asked, hands sliding down to his chest. Her fingertips tapped out a rhythm only she knew before pushing him unexpectedly onto his back. He grunted, his hat falling behind her. He hit his head, groaning softly, shaking to clear his temporarily blurred vision. He could feel her on his hips, a triumphant look on her face. "Has the game gotten dangerous yet?" she purred, leaning closer, her lips brushing against his ear. His hands found her hips.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Do you want to know what I got you for your birthday?" Ziio whispered, a mischievous smile on her lips. Haytham smirked, fingers tapping her hips.

"Oh, I have a few ideas."

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft 
> 
> Hello Canon, fuck you. :)
> 
> I may go back and add some smut to this later, but for now, I'm happy with it. Slept on it and I'm happy with how this turned out.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review.


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